I’ve got tired legs,
and sleep-heavy eyes,
want to lay like a bug
under a wet rock.

But the wildflower scent
hangs thin in the breeze,
and the fresh grass sways lush.

And the mellow sun
dances slowly with
the newly thawing wind.

A beautiful, flirtatious beginning
as they both
allow themselves
a gradual cascade.

A moment in time
as spring flows in,
I stop to hear
the buds
and baby leaves
babble.

I must stay awake
and keep my eyes open

To watch the slow dance
grow to a tempestuous,
torrential crescendo

To hear the leaves and flowers
scream green
and yellow, and violet.

As spring’s whispers
grow into summer’s shouts,
I’ve got to be here, now.